


Thermodynamic

by Telenovela



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telenovela/pseuds/Telenovela
Summary: Heat can be transferred from place to place in three ways: conduction, convection and radiation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short warm up drabble for BokuAka day, and it managed to be none of those things, oops.
> 
> There's a good chance a lot of the science in this is wrong, because I revised it before I wrote, but it's been a good eight years or so since I last studied physics, and Bokuto sucks at science anyway so I don't think it matters too much. Hopefully it's not too offputting.
> 
> Thanks to Pinnku for giving me 'warmth' as a prompt!
> 
> Songs to listen to while you read are [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKWZsLV5VgA), and, less seriously, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnbiVw_1FNs).

Science isn’t Bokuto’s strongest class.

To be fair, most classes aren’t his strongest, aside from sports. He’s trying his hardest, but it’s hard to sit still when he knows that he’ll get to play in a few hours, and the Inter-High preliminaries are coming up, and there’s that practice match next week…

The teacher is talking about heat transfer – there are diagrams on the board labelled ‘convection’, ‘conduction’ and ‘radiation’. Frankly the kanji are complicated enough, let alone the scientific theory they explain. Bokuto scrunches his nose up, staring at the board as the teacher explains.

“Heat is a form of energy; cold is the absence of heat. Heat always spreads outwards from the source, the hottest point, to places where it’s colder, in the form of vibrating molecules. If you look at your textbooks -”

Bokuto stares down at the page, which makes even less sense than what the teacher was saying. This is _hard._

He’s still trying to make sense of it when the bell rings to signal the end of class, and their teacher adds, “Your homework is the questions from the bottom of the page, nice and simple. I’ll be checking it on Monday!”

One of his classmates laughs at the way Bokuto has his head smashed against the book on the desk.

“You won’t be able to absorb the lesson by conduction, you know,” says one of his classmates.  
“I don’t know what that means,” he replies, not moving his face from the book. His friends laugh, and he eventually pulls out his books for his next class, English, and thinks, _only a couple of hours now until practice, not long to wait._

-

He’s refilling his water bottle when Akaashi corners him to ask about schoolwork. This happens every other week or so, and often leaves Bokuto feeling dejected for a while afterwards, at least until his next glorious moment as the ace. But Akaashi insists it’s important for the team in the long run, and Akaashi is usually right about most things, so Bokuto endures it.

“What’s your homework for this weekend, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto’s caught with the bottle under the tap, unable to run away until it’s full at least, cursing himself for letting Akaashi ambush him here yet again.

“Literature and maths. And science, but…”  
“But?” Akaashi raises an eyebrow at him, and Bokuto throws up his free hand in exasperation.  
“I don’t _understand_ it! It doesn’t make any sense, and it’s not important anyway, I don’t need to know about heat transfer to play volleyball anyway, so it’s fine!”

Akaashi has his arms folded, and his frown says ‘Bokuto-san, we’ve talked about this’ and ‘you need to pass your classes if you’re going to be on the team’ without his mouth having to make the words, because Akaashi is magical and sort of terrifying like that.

Bokuto turns off the tap.

“I’ll try and do it, but I might not get it right,” he concedes.

Akaashi sighs.

“I can read over the textbook and try and explain it to you more clearly, if you like?”

It’s a tempting offer. Akaashi’s good at explaining things in Bokuto-friendly terms, and he really does need to pass the class. It also means getting to spend more time together, alone no less.

“Akaashi! You’re the best!”  
“Your hands are wet, Bokuto-san, please let go of me.”

He does, but Akaashi’s smiling with one corner of his mouth, so Bokuto thinks he’s doing okay.

-

After school sees them in a fast food place, cheap French fries spread out on a tray between them and two milkshakes gradually melting in their paper cups.

Looking up from the textbook, Akaashi fixes Bokuto with a _look._

“You’re sure this was too complicated for you, Bokuto-san? It seems easy enough to me.”

Bokuto pouts. Akaashi sighs.

“So, there are three different ways heat energy can move around.

“The first is convection; that’s when heat moves around a liquid or a gas from a source. The heat source makes the molecules in the liquid or gas vibrate faster, so there are bigger gaps between them. That means it’s less dense, and it rises, so the heat spreads upwards and outwards.”

Bokuto is pulling a french fry to pieces. Akaashi sighs again.

“Hold this for a minute,” he says, passing Bokuto his milkshake. Bokuto looks from Akaashi, back to the milkshake, back to Akaashi again. When Akaashi doesn’t say anything more, Bokuto tilts his head, and pouts a little.

“My hand’s getting really cold, can I put it down yet?”

“Exactly,” says Akaashi, nodding. “Your hand feels cold because its heat energy has been transferred to the milkshake. Your hand was the heat source, and now the milkshake is starting to melt because your hand was warm. Get it?”

Bokuto’s eyes are wide. He takes a sip of the milkshake; sure enough, it’s more melted than before.

“Akaashi!” he shouts, and reaches his cold, damp hand across to grip Akaashi’s warm, dry hand in gratitude.

They draw diagrams for a little while – beakers of water with a Bunsen burner under them and arrows showing how the heat moves around the liquid, Bokuto taking Akaashi’s word for it and Akaashi amazed that Bokuto is so impressed by him copying from a textbook.

“Conduction is how heat energy travels through a solid. So like how, if you put a spoon in a cup of coffee, the handle will get hot, because the warmth from the hot coffee travels up it.”

“Oh! Like how my palm gets all hot after I spike the ball?”

Akaashi frowns.

“Not exactly, unless the volleyball itself was hot. That’s more about kinetic energy being transferred as heat, and blood vessels in your hand…”

He glances at Bokuto, whose brows have furrowed again in confusion.

There are two options here: continuing to make Bokuto learn the absolute truth, and risk him not understanding at all, or telling him a white lie in the hope that the important parts make it through. The body is really a horrible example for heat transfer, because really, it’s as much to do with the bloodstream and energy production than the vibration of molecules, but if it helps Bokuto to understand…

“It’s more like when you touched my hand just now,” he acquiesces. “Your hand was cold from holding the milkshake, right? But when you touched my warm hand with your fingertips, your whole hand warmed up, because the heat travelled outwards from where you were holding onto me. Make sense?”

Bokuto’s nodding enthusiastically now, so Akaashi redirects them into drawing diagrams of molecules vibrating, and then they’re almost finished.

“What about radiation?”

He’s slurping the last of his milkshake, noisily. Akaashi frowns a little.

“That’s to do with infrared radiation. It doesn’t need vibrating molecules to travel, so it can even pass through a vacuum, like space. That’s why we can feel heat from the sun.”

“So it’s not just to do with radiators?”

“It’s not to do with radiators at all. That’s convection, we talked about that, remember?”

“It’s no use! I’ll never understand it!” He slumps down across their table, the very image of defeat.

Akaashi rolls his eyes.

“Your textbook doesn’t explain in very much detail, so I don’t think you really have to understand it? You just need to know that it’s a thing, and light colours and shiny surfaces are bad at absorbing it, while dark colours and matt surfaces are good at it. So that’s why in summer we wear white t-shirts to go running in, because our black practice shirts get too hot, remember?”

Bokuto’s still lying there, so Akaashi buys him dessert. All worldly problems solved, they finish the food and the notes, and say goodbye until Monday morning practice. As they go to leave, Bokuto grabs Akaashi’s hand again, just briefly, and squeezes it.

“Conduction!” he says, knowledgeably. Akaashi smiles.

-

Bokuto’s teacher gives him a big tick next to his notes, which he privately gloats over. She also gives them all more homework.

“Over the next week, I want you all to make me a list of different kinds of heat transfer you observe. I want you to have at least ten things for me, and I’ll collect the lists next Monday, alright?”

The homework is exciting, because Bokuto is absolutely an expert on heat transfer now. He’s got this sorted.

-

Akaashi tuts, under his breath. It’s Thursday evening practice, and Bokuto just stopped playing in the middle of a three-on-three game to run to the bench, pull out a notebook and start writing something down. Writing _anything_ voluntarily is decidedly un-Bokuto-like behaviour, but at this point, Akaashi thinks, there’s very little Bokuto could do that would really surprise him.

He crouches down next to the bench, where Bokuto is still frantically scribbling into what Akaashi realises is his science exercise book. Interesting.

“Couldn’t that wait until after we were done playing, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto jumps a little, then looks guiltily up at Akaashi, and across to where the others are still waiting on the court. Konoha, the other person on their team, has actually sat down on the floor, obviously having decided that today’s Bokuto negotiation is going to take a while. He might be right there. Bokuto looks back to Akaashi again, gnawing at the end of his pen.

“I have to make this list for class, of different heat things,” he starts to explain, before his mouth twists up in frustration. “But I still don’t know which kind it is! Akaashi, you have to help me! If I don’t write it down right away I know I’ll forget!”

Akaashi sighs. The sooner this gets done, the sooner practice can resume.

“What have you got so far?”

Bokuto perks up a little, and holds up his book for Akaashi’s inspection.

Written in Bokuto’s messy ballpoint pen, there is the following list:

  1. I got distracted talking to Sarukui at lunch, and my curry went cold. This is convection, because curry is a liquid.
  2. I got really hot and sweaty playing volleyball. This is



The list ends here.

Akaashi frowns.

“The first one is convection, but not because curry is a liquid, but because it’s transferring its heat into the air, which moves it away, so the curry gets cold. What do you think the second one would be?”

Bokuto’s scowl of concentration deepens. Akaashi glances over at their coach, who taps his wrist. Akaashi thinks for a second, then holds up four fingers – this is how long it should take to get Bokuto back to the match, approximately. Their coach nods. Konoha lies back on the wooden floor and stares up at the lights.

“Radiation, because my t shirt is black? But you said radiation came from the sun, and it’s night time! It doesn’t make any sense!”

Akaashi rubs his forehead with his hand.

“Just because you’re wearing a dark coloured shirt, doesn’t mean you’re absorbing most of your heat through radiation, Bokuto-san. And the reason you’re hot is because you’ve been running around, not because of heat transfer, anyway.” Akaashi thinks for a moment. It’s a little more complicated than that, but the last thing Bokuto needs is for things to be more complicated.

“The sun is a really big source of infrared radiation, but really everything in the world radiates heat, it’s just that it’s usually in such small amounts that it’s insignificant. Usually if something is giving out a significant amount of infrared heat radiation, it’s also giving out light, as a general rule. So you could say that the hall itself got hot? Because of infrared radiation from the lights being turned on, and hot air moving around the room by convection, with our bodies as the heat source?”

Bokuto’s head pops up, almost hitting Akaashi in the chin.

“Akaashi!” he shouts, too loudly. “You’re a genius! Say those again so I can write them down?”

They’re back on the court in just under four minutes. Akaashi gives Konoha an apologetic hand up from the floor, while Bokuto yells a “Sorry about that!” to their bemused teammates. They finish the game uninterrupted.

Changing afterwards, Bokuto explains his homework to them all.

“-and it’s due in on Monday, and I still need to think of another eight things!” he finishes, with only one arm through the sleeve of his school shirt, thoroughly distracted. Akaashi holds the other sleeve out for him, wordlessly.

“How long have you had to work on this, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto is suddenly very focussed on buttoning the shirt all the way up. Akaashi rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure we can all help you think of things!” Komi pipes up. “And it’s only Thursday, you still have plenty of time yet!”

“What about the things we talked about before, the milkshake and the coffee spoon?” Akaashi asks, folding his volleyball kit into his sports bag and putting his shoes carefully on top before he zips it up.

“Those happened last week! That would be cheating!”

“Of course it would.” Akaashi swings his bag onto his shoulder, straightening his tie first, then his blazer.

It’s freezing outside, all the warmth of the late-autumn day having faded into the night.

“There’s one for your list already,” says Washio, as Bokuto fusses and whines and rubs his hands together. “Convection in the cold air is drawing heat away from your body, a heat source. So your body starts to feel colder because it’s trying to transfer enough heat to warm up the whole atmosphere.”

Bokuto squawks excitedly, and starts rummaging in his messy schoolbag for his notebook and pen instead. Akaashi dutifully leans forwards, bracing his hands on his knees so Bokuto can lean against his back to write. Konoha stifles a snigger behind his hand, badly.

“I’m sure you could put those other two things on your list if you get stuck,” Akaashi says, trying clear his mind of Konoha and his Konoha-isms. “It’s not really something you can cheat at, and your teacher won’t know they happened last week. They’re pretty everyday occurrences.”

“I suppose I could…” Bokuto finishes writing and stuffs everything back into his bag, first slapping Akaashi on the back, then slinging an arm around his shoulders as they turn to walk to the train station. “I’m going to give it my all!”

Konoha’s laughs properly this time, then sees the look on Akaashi’s face, and laughs even harder. Akaashi is definitely not going to ask him about it.

“You always do, Bokuto-san,” he says instead, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Bokuto is warm where their sides are pressed together.

-

Monday evening practice is disastrous.

Bokuto’s jumps are at a pathetic height, his hands barely clearing the top of the net when he tries to block, and even some of the first year reserve members can block his spikes without difficulty today. Akaashi sets to him, and watches the ball bounce once, twice, then roll dejectedly to the side of the court. Bokuto’s hair seems to droop a little in melancholy.

Ignoring him does nothing. Tossing exclusively to him is an exercise in frustration. Sending him to refill the water bottles in the hope he gets distracted and forgets to be sad doesn’t work, and even Suzumeda and Yukie-san talking loudly about their beloved ace from the side of the court doesn’t seem to revitalise him.

Like a dull ache at the back of his head, Akaashi realises with resignation that he’s going to have to just talk to him about it.

They finish early, mostly because of their captain’s issues today, and the changing room fills and clears while Bokuto sits on the bench, shoulders slumped. An occasional sigh escapes him, deep and sorrowful. Akaashi reassesses his dejectedness-level from an eight to a Code Red, and glances around at the other first-string members to convey this information. They nod, and leave quickly, offering shoulder pats and hair ruffles and “See you tomorrow, captain!” to their leader as they go.

Akaashi sits down next to him, and waits.

 It takes almost a minute of Bokuto fiddling with the zip of his team jacket, before he bursts out with it.

“My teacher wrote something weird on my homework, and I got in trouble, and I don’t understand why!”

Akaashi turns to look at him.

“What did she write?”

Bokuto rummages through his bag again, pulling out a bruised apple, a handkerchief and two pencils, which balance awkwardly in his lap, before the familiar science exercise book appears. He turns it to a recent page, and holds it out for Akaashi to read.

The new list is as follows:

  1. I got distracted talking to Sarukui at lunch and my curry went cold. This is convection, because the heat circulated through the air away from my curry.
  2. The sports hall got really hot during volleyball practice. This is because the lights were emitting infrared radiation, and because the volleyball team got hot from playing and acted as a heat source for heat to move around the hall by convection.
  3. When we walked out of the hall, it was cold outside. This is because the heat was moved away from my body to heat the air up by convection.
  4. When Akaashi texted me to check I got home okay and say goodnight, I felt warm all over. This is because my phone was producing light and infrared heat radiation.
  5. I leaned on Akaashi during morning break because I was tired, and my side felt warm where we were touching. This is conduction, because the warmth travelled from Akaashi into me, but I’m not a liquid so it can’t be convection.
  6. I held Akaashi’s hand today and my cheeks felt hot. This is conduction, because the heat moved through my hand up my arm and into my face.
  7. Akaashi bought me ice cream after practice, but mine melted before I could finish it because I got distracted. This one was really hard because ice cream is cold so it couldn’t be a heat source, but it must have got warmer to melt, so the warmth from the air must have moved through it by conduction, even though ice cream doesn’t really count as a solid I don’t think, especially when it’s melting, but Akaashi says it does so I should write it as that.
  8. I forgot to bring a jacket to practice and it was cold when we finished so Akaashi leant me a spare and I was much warmer when I had it on. This is convection because the heat went from Akaashi’s body into the jacket, then from the jacket into my body.
  9. When I was making coffee this morning the handle of the spoon got hot. This is an example of conduction because the heat travelled from the hot coffee down the handle of the metal spoon.
  10. Sorry I don’t have time to come up with a number ten.



Akaashi stares at the list some more.

The teacher has marked each example with a tick or a cross, in red pen. Tick, tick, tick, cross, tick, cross, tick, cross, tick, cross. Number eight has a note written next to it about thermal insulation. Underneath the list, in writing much neater than Bokuto’s, the teacher has written,

_A good attempt, Koutarou-kun, but writing about your girlfriend in your homework exercises isn’t really appropriate. Please try to complete the exercise next time._

Akaashi rereads the list, then again. Then he looks over at Bokuto, who’s fiddling with his tie, undoing and retying it, making no attempt to actually put it on.

“I tried really hard on the homework! I gave it my best, so why did I get in trouble for it? I tried telling her that you’re not my girlfriend after class ended, but she just got really concerned looking, and asked if I’d tried talking to you. But I talk to you all the time, so that doesn’t make any sense either!”

He bunches a hand in his hair, the very image of confusion and worry, and looks at Akaashi to provide him with answers.

Akaashi sighs.

“She probably means that a lot of those things – texting to say goodnight, and buying you ice cream and holding hands – are things you’d normally do with a girlfriend, not just a friend.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“But you’re not my girlfriend! You’re not even a girl, and we still do all those things. Is that bad?”

“No,” Akaashi rushes to reassure him, “it’s not a bad thing. Most of those things aren’t too unexpected between two male friends who’re especially close, except perhaps the holding hands, it just… looks more intimate, I suppose, when it’s all written down right next to each other like that. We do spend a lot of time together.”

Bokuto still looks unhappy.

“Of course we spend a lot of time together! We’re captain and vice-captain, and you’re one of my best friends, so it’d be weirder if we didn’t spend time together!”

“I know that. Your teacher just doesn’t know us, that’s all, so she misunderstood.” Akaashi pauses to think, choosing his words carefully. “Do you want to stop doing those things, if it upset you that she got the wrong impression?”

“No!” Bokuto sits up straighter, tie pulled taut between his fists. “I like spending time with you and texting you and stuff, and especially when you buy me ice cream! And nobody else is as good at explaining stuff to me as you are, even though you’re only a second year, so if you stopped I’d probably get thrown off the team and expelled from school and be miserable forever!”

“I don’t think that would happen, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says calmly, “but thank you for the compliment. I like spending time with you too. So if we’re both happy, and don’t want things to change, then what’s the problem? It’s her mistake, and it doesn’t really matter, so there’s no harm done.”

Bokuto still doesn’t look completely convinced, but he nods determinedly, like he’s trying really hard to believe what Akaashi’s saying.

Akaashi takes the tie from him, loops it over his head and ties it.

“I’ll buy you a snack from the station shop on our way home to make up from it?” Akaashi tugs the end of the tie so the knot slides up to hang loosely around Bokuto’s neck, comfortable and just a little tidier than normal, but still the way he likes it. “The wrong impression is partly my fault, after all.”

Bokuto smiles again then, and they start walking towards the station.

On the train home, Akaashi thinks several things, staring across at his own reflection in the dark windows. Firstly, that he probably knows what Konoha was laughing at all those times now. Secondly, that the situation seems to have escalated very quickly beyond his control, if the teacher’s reaction – and their other teammates usual non-reaction to them – was anything to go by. And thirdly, that Bokuto’s smile is a lot like the sun, even on a dark night like tonight, radiating constant light and heat, keeping Akaashi warm.

He texts Bokuto when he gets home, confirming that he made it back safely and saying goodnight, and wanders what he’s going to do now.

-

The rest of the week is simultaneously the same as normal, and horribly different.

Bokuto is back on form in practice, slamming spikes with full enthusiasm. Outside of volleyball though, he seems a little distracted. Not enough to be noticeable unless you knew Bokuto really well, as Akaashi does, but like he’s turning something over in the back of his mind, playing with an idea, like there’s something he’s just not quite able to put his finger on. It’s a dangerous thing, a thinking Bokuto.

He still appears in the doorway of Akaashi’s classroom resolutely at the start of every morning break and lunch period, even though the second year classrooms are on a different floor to the third years, and Bokuto has plenty of friends in his own year, even outside of the team. He still sits close enough to Akaashi that their sides press warmly together, still eats the leftovers from Akaashi’s bento, still gets rice on his cheek like he does every day, and smiles at Akaashi when Akaashi picks it off, like always.

These things have always been constants, the daily features of his life since becoming Bokuto’s friend, as normal and unremarkable as his classes or the ringing of the school bell.

It’s not really new, the way he can be talking with a group of teammates, and look up to see Bokuto gazing back at him. What _is_ new is the downwards curl of the corner of his mouth, the consideration in his eyes. What’s new Akaashi’s awareness of it all, these hundreds of tiny nothings that add up to one big Something.

-

By Friday, Akaashi thinks, _this is ridiculous._

He asks Bokuto to stay behind after practice that evening, to look at the line-up for their second-string team. “Captain things,” he tells Bokuto, and ignores the way Konoha snickers at that, just like he always has.

They do work through the list of names first, because Akaashi is nothing if not a good vice-captain, and Bokuto cares fiercely about the team. But once the sheets of paper have been carefully put back into Akaashi’s bag – not Bokuto’s, ever – they lapse into an unusual silence, sitting facing each other, cross-legged on the club room floor.

Akaashi is the one to break it, which is rare enough in itself.

“Do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s been bothering you, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto’s eyes widen, almost comically.

“How do you do that!? It’s like you can read my mind sometimes, it’s super scary!”

“It’s only scary if you’re thinking something you don’t want me to know about,” Akaashi says, voice level. “Which is fine, if you are. I promise I can’t _actually_ read your mind. But if you did want to talk about it, we can.”

Bokuto leans back on his hands, and lets out a big, deep sigh. Akaashi plays with the fingers of his left hand, touching each of the joints in turn. When Bokuto doesn’t volunteer any more information, he adds, “I think there’s something I’d like to talk to you about, regardless, but I’d rather you go first.”

Akaashi looks across at him, and meets Bokuto’s eyes. That has his attention.

“What did you want to say?”

Akaashi holds out a hand.

“After you, Bokuto-san. What’s on your mind?"

He gets a grimace in response, then another sigh, this one resigned.

“I guess I’m still thinking about what my teacher said about us the other week.” Akaashi nods; he’d figured that much out on his own. Bokuto continues.

“It just doesn’t make any sense! Because we already do all those couple things anyway, the holding hands and hanging out all the time and stuff. I definitely don’t want to stop doing all those things, I wasn’t ever worried about that. But does that make us a couple, if we do all that stuff? There’s a lot of couple stuff we don’t do too, right? Like, couples hold hands all the time, not just when I’m down about something and you want to reassure me, and they kiss and do… other stuff. And I hang out lots with everyone on the team, not just with you, so what makes that different? So I thought a lot about it, and I don’t really want to hold hands with Komiyan or Yukie-chan or any of the others. But when I do those things with you it doesn’t feel like I’m going out of my way to do something special, it just feels normal and comfortable and right. So I guess what I’m trying to say is – thinking about feelings and stuff is so hard, agh! – but what I wanted to say is that when I’m with you or I’m thinking about you, I feel warm – like I’m in a safe place, or like I’m drinking hot miso on a frosty morning, but I’ve got my coat on so when I go outside I don’t notice that the rest of the world is icy. You’re always really warm, Akaashi. But is that what liking someone feels like? And if I do like you then what am I supposed to do about it? It’s all really confusing!”

Bokuto has a hand in his hair again, and he’s pouting a little. Akaashi is horrified at himself for thinking that he looks cute, then reassesses, and thinks, actually, that’s an okay thing to think.

“What I wanted to say to you,” he replies, trying to choose his words carefully, “is that I might not have been completely truthful, last week, when I said that I didn’t want anything to change.”

He reaches out to catch hold of one of Bokuto’s hands, before he gets chance to jump to the wrong conclusion. Bokuto’s fingers are warm, secure between his own.

“We aren’t dating right now, because you can’t be dating someone if you’ve never talked about it and agreed on it. But if you wanted to be, we could be?”

It’s a nice feeling, the realisation of a potential; asking a question when you already know what the answer is going to be, and it’s exactly what you want to hear.

Bokuto’s grin is dazzlingly big.

Akaashi shifts so that he’s kneeling, then leans forward to kiss him, and it’s just as safe and comfortable and warm as Bokuto had described.

They both laugh a little, breathless, still close, and Bokuto brings his free hand up to brush against Akaashi’s cheek, flushed and hot.

“Radiation,” he says, knowingly.

Akaashi laughs more, shakes his head in wonder, and moves back in to kiss him again.

 


End file.
